


Adoration

by charivari



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Boss-Subordinate relationship, Desk Sex, M/M, Obsession, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, reference to masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shockwave takes advantage of Cliffjumper's admiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adoration

**Author's Note:**

> Because there should be more Cliffjumper/Shockwave :3

The thought of seducing Cliffjumper had never occurred to Shockwave. He was in many ways a model secretary. He completed his work diligently and quietly. He didn't ask too many questions. He always asked permission before entering Longarm's office. As far as Shockwave could see Cliffjumper needed no other incentive other than his commitment to duty.

But then one cycle Cliffjumper had entered his office (after comm-ing his superior first, giving Shockwave time to revert back into Longarm and block any unexpected transmissions from Megatron). 

"I have the reports you asked for Sir," the red bot held out a stack of datapads.

Longarm accepted them with a warm smile.

"Thank you Agent Cliffjumper. Dismissed."

But the secretary had lingered.

"There was one more thing Sir."

Shockwave hid his irritation behind Longarm's patient gaze.

"Yes?" 

Cliffjumper ducked his helm. An unusually shy gesture for the straight forward bot.

"I was wondering if... You wanted some company."

The question took Shockwave by surprise.

"Company?"

Cliffjumper continued to stare at the floor in front of him.

"I never see you... socializing," his mouth gave a nervous twitch, "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Some bots prefer to be alone."

Shockwave processed the words critically. True he avoided the company of other mecha except for council meetings and other professional engagements. Did that make him look suspicious? 

No. He relaxed. Cliffjumper's statement hadn't been an accusation. Preferring your own company wasn't a mark of treachery.

Longarm smiled at his subordinate,

"I'm afraid I'm a little too busy for socializing."

Cliffjumper glanced up, expression apologetic.

"Oh yes I know. I'm not trying to offend you..."

Shyness overtook him again. His optics lowered.

"I just wondered if you... Had any needs you would like me to attend to."

Shockwave was perfectly adept at reading innuendo. So his pathetic little Autobot secretary had been harboring a crush on him. How amusing. 

Longarm's face presented nothing but polite shock. 

"Just to be clear," he said, "You're offering me...?"

"Interface," Cliffjumper cleared his vocaliser, "Yes."

Oh this was rich. Truly.

Shockwave fought the urge to sneer. Longarm laced his fingers on his desk. 

"Cliffjumper," he said gently, "You do realize there are protocols in place discouraging inter-office relationships."

"If I may Sir everyone ignores those protocols. Besides," Cliffjumper added bashfully, "It could be our little secret."

Our little secret. 

Shockwave would never trust an Autobot with his secrets. And who was to say Cliffjumper didn't have an ulterior motive of his own?

Blackmail perhaps? 

Cliffjumper didn't strike him as the devious type. That didn't prevent Shockwave regularly sweeping the department for hidden cameras or listening devices. So far his checks had turned up nothing. If Cliffjumper wanted to decry him for sexual harassment, it would be the red bot's word against Longarm's. Cliffjumper didn't have a chance against Longarm's sterling record of professionalism. 

Shockwave doubted Cliffjumper would risk career like that. There was no reason for him to bear a grudge either. Longarm ran a tight ship but he wasn't Sentinel Prime. He didn't bully his underlings. 

So if blackmail wasn't motive... 

Career advancement? 

That too seemed unlikely. Longarm was Chief of Intelligence but he held little power over the promotion of other officers. The best he could do was put in a good word. But Cliffjumper's work spoke for itself. He didn't need to seduce Longarm for a good reference.

Shockwave studied Cliffjumper's face. There was only a rumple of pleading. Pleading for Longarm to agree, to accept his advances. 

Shockwave could see benefit in indulging him. Love brought greater loyalty than a sense of duty. An enamored Cliffjumper would never think to pry into Shockwave's affairs, never come to suspect he was actually a spy.

"Longarm Sir?" Cliffjumper broke the silence.

Longarm's face was solemn,

"You are certain this is what you want?" he asked Cliffjumper.

The red bot nodded.

"Yes Sir."

There was more than plea in his face now. There was adoration, lustful foolish adoration.

Silly Autobot, if only he knew.

Longarm smiled tenderly,

"Well if you feel so strongly who am I to say no."

He motioned the grateful Cliffjumper towards him. The red bot dropped down onto his knees before him. Longarm spread his legs wide enough for Cliffjumper to lean forward, tongue flicking slavishly against Longarm's interface panel.

Shockwave off-lined his true optic. It was easier to enjoy the experience without having to see the Autobot's ugly face. Blinded, it was easier to slip into fantasy. It was not Cliffjumper's tongue against his array. It was Megatron's, the warlord rewarding him for all his hard work. 

A groan escaped Longarm as he open his panel. His spike was quickly enveloped by Cliffjumper's - no, Megatron's - mouth. His frame buzzed with pleasure as his master deep-throated him. 

But his processor suddenly railed against it. Megatron would never lower himself to servicing a subordinate, even one as loyal as Shockwave. Megatron would be more inclined to spike him. 

Longarm jerked himself from Cliffjumper's eager mouth. He onlined his optic momentarily as he rose from his chair. He leaned across his desk, legs spread, valve exposed. The position Megatron was more likely to take him in.

"Sir?" Cliffjumper's voice was hesitant. 

"Spike me," the demand came out too rough and he added, with more appropriate pleading, "Cliffjumper spike me."

"Yes sir."

There was excitement in Cliffjumper's tone, an eagerness to please. The red bot moved into position behind him. He felt the tip of a spike, too small to be Megatron's, press against his valve. 

Longarm's fingers clenched the surface of the desk. The discrepancy in size was disappointing. But he would make do. It was better than self-servicing to Megatron's portrait, servo thrust inside his own valve. He allowed Cliffjumper to thrust inside him, his pace slow, cautious. 

"Is this good?" he asked, "I'm not hurting you?"

Shockwave off-lined his audial feed. He didn't want to hear Cliffjumper's voice. Megatron wouldn't ask for such reassurance. He wouldn't be gentle. He would simply dominate him.

"Yes," he cried as if appealing to Megatron himself, "Please harder."

Cliffjumper obliged. The force bearing against him wasn't exactly Megatron's. Cliffjumper lacked the warlord's height, the strength of his frame. But his spike, despite it's size, was punching against Shockwave's internal nodes, carving sparks of pleasure. 

It was enough for Shockwave to pretend. 

Despite having his back to Cliffjumper he off-lined his optic again for good measure. Megatron was behind him, thick spike pounding into his valve.

"H-harder," he pleaded, "P-lease M..."

My Lord. Megatron. 

"M-more!" Longarm gasped.

Charge shot through his frame. Shockwave bit down on his glossa to prevent a stream of entreaties rushing forth.

MyLordpleasemoreIbegyouIamyourloyalservantIloveyouIloveyoupleaseoverloadinsidemepleaseplease...

He felt the warm spurt of transfluid (Megatron's transfluid) and his own overload crashed over him.

Shockwave felt arms latch around him. He onlined his optic and audials. Cliffjumper's vents were low and ragged against his back. Longarm swiveled to face him. The red bot's optics were bright with adoration. 

He would do anything Shockwave asked, anything. 

Including and especially interface. Shockwave liked the idea of revisiting his fantasies.

After all the sacrifices he'd made as a spy, he deserved some kind of reward.

Longarm smiled at Cliffjumper.

"Our little secret," he echoed the mech's earlier words.

"Yes," the Autobot smiled obliviously, "Our little secret."


End file.
